Poké Wars: The Game
by Disciple of Mischief
Summary: Task? Check. Undampened powers? Check. Fun? Haw-haw! Check.


_**Author's Note:** I'd like to thank Cornova for not only allowing me to run amok in his universe, but also for the couple of tips that helped this chapter._

_Oh, and before I forget, I don't own either Pokémon or Cornova's glorious universe. Which is probably a good thing._

* * *

Bite. Chew. Swallow.

Bite. Chew. Swallow.

Morons, the lot of them.

This Rattata.

Bite. Chew. Swallow.

This Rattata was shrewd. He knew what he was doing. Keeping alive and keeping a low profile was easy for this critter.

The Undampening had made things interesting, but the Rattata had not fretted about it. Sure, the ghost pokémon, major hazards to the Rattata, were stronger, faster and more dangerous than ever, but size and power weren't the only abilities one could flaunt. Intelligence matched size and power. Intelligence could _beat_ size and power.

Even before the Undampening had happened, the forests surrounding Len Town were a hot spot for gastly, haunter, and gengar, a place in which they had claimed years ago. The bug, flying, and normal pokémon that used to live here were evicted, either being chased off or exterminated. The ghosts ruled these forests.

But not everybody was gone.

Bite. Chew. Swallow.

Nope, not everybody. This Rattata stuck around.

With the ghosts the only pokémon now dwelling here, the Rattata's favourite food, the delicious oran berry, needed somebody to eat them. They weren't overly fussed on that beautiful blue fruit, occasionally plucking them from their bushes as a snack, but that suited the Rattata just fine. He'd give them all the attention in the world.

Bite. Chew. Swallow.

So tasty.

Hiding had been easy. Constantly on the move, constantly migrating to various parts of the forests, the Rattata avoided being seen.

Really, it was that simple. He guessed that the dumb ghosts thought only their kind dared to live in these woods, that no other species of pokémon would risk getting cosy here after all those years.

They were wrong, very wrong.

Better yet, most of the ghosts had been spending their time being psycho in Len Town ever since the Undampening, meaning the Rattata could eat, eat and eat. Eat, eat and eat.

Bite. Chew. Swallow.

Bite. Chew. Swallow.

Bite. Chew. Swallow.

He didn't know why they were attacking the town, but he was glad they were elsewhere. The resident's psychic pokémon would do the stupid oafs in, but who cared? Not the Rattata.

For all of him, they could stay in that settlement and be idiots while he feasted on delicious berries in relative safety.

Bite. Chew. Swallow.

No brains, those ghosts. No brains.

Bite. Chew. Swallow.

Morons, the lot of them.

Entei brought his forepaw down on the unsuspecting Rattata, the pokémon's organs spraying from his body as he burst owing to the immense weight that crushed him. The Rattata's gory remains, now exhibiting the consistency of a paste, slathered the leaves and soil in irregular layers. The sight coaxed a smile out of Entei—a chuckle, too.

His amusement was apparent, but his intentions were clear: no one would escape his wrath. Not even a minuscule rattata who could be dismissed in both importance and lethality. Having stalked him for a short while, he felt the urge to emphasise this point and take action.

Even though there wasn't a single soul around to witness this act of punishment, thus learning from it accordingly. _And_ the fact that Entei had no clue on the Rattata's allegiance. He could have been neutral, which the legendary despised for fence-sitters in his view were against his master, or his allegiance could have been the same as Entei's. So, depending on how you looked at it, he might have suffered a mishap there.

Maybe. Possibly. Probably.

Okay, he did. But it was a rattata. That's all. A single rattata among hundreds of others that might call this forest home. Entei had a hunch that he would survive to complete his task without the aid of one puny pokémon.

_I hope._

Another smile upturned his lips, another chuckle emerged from them. Possessing the blackest brand of humour, death afforded a myriad of jokes he found hilarious. There existed not a facet of that dark subject that couldn't appeal to his sense of humour, his own demise included.

So he laughed loud and laughed often. With Ho-Oh, his revered master, leading a crusade to reclaim a world that was rightfully theirs, life was grand, splendid, fantastic. He came, killed, and conquered. Sometimes he had trouble comprehending Ho-Oh had designated him a vital task to perform when it felt like he'd been instructed to have fun and enjoy himself.

His brothers struggled to understand why this was the case, Suicune in particular. Entei recalled the night in the Tin Tower where he and Raikou had eliminated an unwelcome visitor, that detestable gym leader who had enslaved numerous ghost pokémon to do his bidding, Morty. He had revelled in the swine's death, and Raikou appeared satisfied enough. But Suicune neither assisted his brothers nor took delight in the human's termination.

Entei had disapproved of his brother's behaviour, his passivity. He also disapproved of the excuse Suicune had offered to Ho-Oh, about how the human could have been of use to them, or how he posed no threat to the crusade, or some foolishness like that. His excuse didn't allude to either of those reasons, but if their master had permitted him to go on, his words would have been moulded into as such.

Quelling a rebuke for fear of receiving one from Ho-Oh for stepping out of line, Entei had kept his thoughts to himself. When they rendezvoused in New Bark Town, he'd quiz his brother on his mission and his current attitude towards the crusade. Here was hoping he would score a ten out of ten with his replies.

Although he would never admit it, Entei loved his brother. If there were ever a situation which required him to save his brother's life, he would do what he needed to do without hesitation. He just wished Suicune would relax, stop being so serious, and lighten up. He could be the biggest wet blanket at times. The biggest.

But not Entei. As opposed to his calm and solemn brother, an unpredictable temper and brazen nature constructed the framework of his personality. Freedom was his and he planned to have as much fun as possible, exploiting this liberation and new power bestowed to him by Ho-Oh. In his own way, of course. Which could have been described as...different.

Oh yes, different. Very different.

The task Ho-Oh had appointed him began at Ecruteak. After razing the city, Entei was to travel south, following the primary routes connecting the major towns and cities to one another, devastating each settlement he passed through until he reached New Bark Town. There, he would converge with Suicune and the two would journey to Goldenrod, regroup with Raikou, and await further instructions from their master.

Opportunities. Satisfaction. Enjoyment. Crammed into every aspect of it, Entei recognised these by-products were abundant in his mission.

Especially when the games came into the mix.

A town situated south of Ecruteak had the privilege of hosting the inaugural game. A placid settlement filled with humans whose love for grass pokémon were restricted by no bounds, it featured an annual grass tournament which attracted an excellent number of competitors from around the town, as well as many spectators keen to see some thrilling battles. A week away from their next tournament, the residents had been preparing for it, the organisers hard at work attending to the maintenance of the stadium, registering the competitors, and arranging the schedule, while the trainers practised with their pokémon, fine-tuning attacks and strategies.

Those citizens desired excitement, did they? A series of quality battles? A day of entertainment?

Done, done, and done. Entei had it covered. He had delivered everything they sought in one go, free of charge and, as icing on the cake, a week early. How generous of him.

Humans could move fast when the circumstances demanded them to. As mobile targets, they would be tricky to hit, perhaps even a challenge for his marksmanship skills. So Entei decided to put his aim to the test, curious to know how many headshots he could acquire within a thirty minute time limit.

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," he had said to himself, a grin plastered on his face.

Stirring them into frenzied motion proved simple. The largest structure in town, the stadium they used for their tournament lay in the centre of their settlement. A lava plume attack demolished it, triggering quite the deranged response from the humans. They ran, they screamed, they ran, they screamed.

The rumble of feet pounding against the ground. The terror clutching to their shrieks. Entei laughed at it all. The humans' noises provided an exquisite soundtrack for him to kill to.

He melted some sucker's head with a well-placed ember. Another gentleman's noggin he turned to a crimson slush owing to a flamethrower, the fire narrowed to a thin stream stealing just the head. Swiping at a woman, Entei watched her horrified visage tumble through the air, mouth agape, eyes stretched wide. And when a child lost his footing and crashed to the pavement, Entei stomped on his head with such force his forepaw drove through the concrete, producing a hole deep enough to accommodate the kid's scrawny body.

He slew another woman, a fat thing doing more waddling than running. Then a nerd wearing glasses so thick he needed no telescope to view the moon with. Then an elderly fellow in a wheelchair, hilariously pushing himself along, trying to elude the petrified masses. Then another. Then another. Then another.

When the thirty minutes were up, one hundred and eighty-six humans had been massacred. A decent effort, but Entei believed he could have done better. And he would, when he visited the next settlement. If he had not devised a new game by then, that was.

The town's execution soon followed afterwards. His enthusiasm telling him to get a wriggle on, he departed. People to slaughter, places to raze, he saw no reason to hang around.

Giggling arose from behind, the trees, the bushes. Giggling tainted with a wickedness that had the capacity to chill blood. Giggling originating from the ghost pokémon that resided here.

Nurturing a creativity that surprised him—albeit pleasantly—Entei unleashed the depraved substance of his imagination on each settlement he encountered, in the form of games. A new one for every settlement was the idea, or at least a variation of a game. And damn it, they were fun.

Wobbuffet Village and Bonitaville were exceptionally delightful to annihilate.

Notable for their worship of wobbuffet, Entei hunted the residents' pokémon to extinction. Being a small community, he accomplished this without much hassle, incinerating, biting, ramming, and trampling the wobbuffet to death. The owners who expressed minimal anguish and fear were spared from extermination while the sissies who sobbed and voided their bowels went bye-bye.

Sort of. Once the cowards had been dealt with, Entei razed the village, killing the braver humans in the process. Whatever rules he was supposed to abide by vanished the moment he began massacring the sissies.

Oops.

Somewhere in the forest, a man yelled. Leaves crunching underfoot succeeded the cry, as did the giggling of ghost pokémon.

Bonitaville, though, inspired a genuine game. A game of bingo. Or something like that.

The lucky citizens sporting green or orange garments were slaughtered first. And as it turned out, green and orange were all the rage, the colours of the day. Busy, he'd been, wasting those fortunate people. Very busy.

Amassing a tally that had Entei cackling until his lungs ached, he concluded the game by obliterating the city with a combination of fire blasts and fire spins.

The man yelled again. He swore at his pursuers, uttering obscenities as if they would repel them.

Infusing fun into a task that could have found itself plagued by monotony, the games had been a blessing. True, the outset of his mission would have been fine, razing this town and that city an absolute scream—pun intended—but over the course of it, using the same attacks in the same fashion would have eventually provoked the same emotional state from him. And Entei loathed being bored.

Having arrived at the borders of Len Town a couple of hours before dawn, it was next. He expected little from this settlement, its pitiful size condemning it to a quick fate. Not that Entei minded, because he could still do what he wanted before moving on.

Or so he thought until he became privy to the ghost pokémons' activities as he marched through Len Town's encompassing forests, hearing the animated conversations of these roguish creatures.

He'd been beaten to the punch. Fired from his job, it seemed, and replaced by ghost pokémon. An interesting development.

The footfalls increased in volume, the swearing in frequency.

Catching bits and pieces of their conversations, Entei ascertained the condition of Len Town. If the ghosts were not exaggerating, for their mischievous aspects influenced them to strain truths, then numerous humans and their psychic pokémon had been maimed and slaughtered, and many buildings destroyed, reduced to rubble. Were he honest about their progress, he would have declared Len Town doomed, a goner with a coffin being prepared for it.

Because the ghost pokémon had potentially sabotaged Entei's game for this settlement, their intervention might have posed a problem had their allegiance lay elsewhere. But it didn't, in either instance, and he utilised both his incredible power, which was almost the only thing they respected, and a deal to negotiate the terms of the town's destruction, along with a few errands he needed taken care of. The deal had been accepted in a second.

The man exploded through a pair of shrubs. Ignoring the cuts and scratches given to him by the plants, he kept sprinting but tripped over a fallen branch, slamming to the forest floor.

In exchange for their services, the promise of unfettered chaos and destruction had been offered. There were a handful of settlements located between Ecruteak and Goldenrod that Entei had not bothered to raze, as they were minor, hidden in forests, or away from the routes he had been travelling on. Happy to oblige, the ghost pokémon would devastate them.

A gengar appeared a moment later. Cool, casual, it strutted towards the man, a menacing grin locked onto its face.

Also part of the deal had been Len Town. Entei would ultimately be its executioner, but as an incentive for firmer loyalty, if loyalty even meant anything to them, he had sanctioned additional hours for the ghost pokémon to finish what they were doing. Then it would be _his_ turn.

After all, he had a game to play.

Sucking in air through his mouth, the man attempted to pick himself up but failed. Blood and sweat streaked his features, drenched his torn clothing.

The gengar had its prey. It approached the man. It grabbed his ankle and, paying no heed to his thrashing, hauled the man to it.

"Leave him."

The gengar's eyes flicked to Entei. It shrugged, releasing the human. "You're the boss."

In granting the extension to the ghost pokémon for them to go out with a bang, Entei had to wait. A couple of hours had elapsed since his arrival, but considering there were still a couple more to tick by, this human was his. His. Not theirs, his. He was the one who had to wait to kill, not the ghosts, so he deserved this person, this source of entertainment to occupy his time with.

Entei padded over to the man. He stood before him, staring down at the wretch.

On his hands and knees, the man returned Entei's stare. The sheer majesty of the legendary incapacitated his movement. He might as well have been frozen in his position, an ice sculpture designed to convey the manifestation of pure terror.

Glancing at the gengar standing opposite him, Entei thought it looked familiar. He remembered being intrigued by the appearance of a gengar he had observed when he'd first strode through Len Town's forests. Having evidently inherited genes that bore a strong resemblance to the physical characteristics of a demon rather than its species, it had to be him.

Anyway.

"That game the human children play," Entei said. "What's it called again? No, don't tell me." He paused, sifting through his memories. "Ah, that's it. Hide-and-seek. You heard of it?"

The demonic gengar tilted its head. "That game where a group of kiddies hide and one of them has to find the missing munchkins?"

Entei smiled. "That's the one!"

Hide-and-seek. A wholesome game. An innocent game. Now a fatal game.

He lifted his gaze to the sky. Coloured with soft shades of blue and yellow, no clouds stained the vast expanse. "Len Town the setting, its residents the players, me the seeker, it's all ready."

The demonic gengar snickered. "I know where this is going. I so know where this is going."

Upon entering their settlement, Entei would slay every scrap of organic trash he discovered. Corpses would mark the player as out, removing him—or her—from the game. And that was it. Kill, whack, butcher, destroy, murder, eliminate, pulverise, incinerate as many humans as he could find. Then remodel the place into a desert of ash.

Hide-and-seek Entei style. Fun for all ages.

The situation proving too much for him, the man whimpered. A terrible quaking assailed him, but he did not retreat from the legendary and the gengar.

His fear would not allow him. Neither would the two pokémon.

Entei smirked at the man. "And you, my friend, are out."


End file.
